When Bucky Officially Met Steve
by allirockssocks
Summary: After being rescued from Hydra, Bucky thinks about Steve Rogers.


Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the world in which they are in.

When Bucky Officially Met Steve

When Bucky officially met Steve (he knew of him, they grew up on the same block) it was April 20, 19264 and the bells from St. Mary's had just rung out 3:00 pm. And, as Danny McKenny, an eighth grader a thirteen year old from the street over proclaimed, Steve was about "ta get the beatin' of his life." Bucky had been nine at the time, and Steve had been ten. When Bucky looked at that Steve_, that dumb kid, run dumb kid_, all he could see was a slight, sickly little guy with a patch of sunshine on his head and cheekbones that protruded in a way that no kid's cheekbones should. In this neighborhood everyone was a little slight, but still…

Fierce blue eyes stared Danny McKenny down, and before Bucky could even really consider walking away and taking the long way home instead of the shortcut through the alley behind Mr. Waterman's barely functioning grocery, Bucky stepped into the alley and shouted,

"Hey McKenny, you ever think about robbing punks in a different neighborhood. Folks don't take too calmly to people stealing from their neighbors." Steve's eyes flashed to Bucky taking him in.

"Get outta here, Barnes," McKenny, said after a glance over his shoulder, said. "This ain't your business." Bucky stepped until he was right behind Danny.

"You take one step closer to Steve here, and I'll make it my business," he responded.

Danny's fist flew towards Steve's face. Steve jumped back but took the hit to the chin instead of the nose. Bucky's fist, however, did make its impact on McKenny's nose from where Bucky had moved to McKenny's and McKenny swayed sideways as blood poured from his nostrils.

Bucky and Steve's eyes met sending the run signal between them. They both took off down the alley towards their homes and far away from Danny McKenny. A block away, they stopped to rest, hand on their knees, breathing heavily, Steve's breath coming out in thick rasps.

"I'm Bucky," he said between gasps of oxygen.

"I know," Steve responded. "Steve Rogers," he said after getting his breathing under control. Steve had shiner on his chin for a week and half after they officially met.

…

That's how Bucky thinks of Steve, a dumb kid who never backed down from a fight, even if it was better for him, with a piece of his body blackened to a sicklye blue and yellow. Steve was now a hunk of muscle of self confidence, buying rounds of drinks for an equally brave, dumb team. And despite Steve's recent heroic gestures, Bucky thought that he might never be able to stop seeing not see Steve as a kid in need of rescue.

Bucky sipped his whiskey, but it didn't have the same effect it did back home, especially when it was made in whoever's bathtub or shipped from Scotland to Canada and snuck across the border in hidden compartments in trains and cars. Or maybe it was him and not the liquor but Bucky didn't want to think about Zola and whatever was done to him and how _Jesus Christ_ it had hurt.

…

Bucky and Steve got drunk on off ofgin in November of 1933 about a month before Prohibition was repealed. They had saved up their pennies, and Bucky had bought the bottle off of some guy at the docks. They sat on the floor of Mrs. Roger's apartment while she had her night shift at the hospital. The couch cushions were on the floor, and Steve had only taken 4four sips before he was ossified and giggling half on the cushions, half on the scratched wood floor. Bucky hadn't been drunk yet, but he looked fondly at Steve, _that punk_, and continued to sip until he was lying right next to Steve, his head on the cushions, his bottom on the floor giggling while they talked about the cartoon that came on before King Kong played at their local theatre, even though that had been weeks ago.

…

The army had offered him an honorable discharge, but Bucky hadn't taken it yet. He looked to Steve who deposited the men's next round before sliding onto the stool next to Bucky at the bar. He had grace and strength now. Before Bucky had shipped off, Steve wouldn't have been able to hold up four glasses.

"See, I told you they're all idiots,." Bucky tried to smile the way he always had, a little crooked, a little lazy, a lot of charm. But it felt wrong. He swirled the booze in his glass before taking a drink.

"How 'bout you?" Steve asked. His small all-American smile graced his face and well he was _Captain America_ now. The smile said 'I'm a good, responsible boy,' but Bucky knew better. That smile only came out when Steve was about to do something stupid. "Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of Death?"

Bucky paused and remembered all the times he came home from work at the docks and glanced into every alley he passed looking for the distinctive shine of Steve's golden hair. He remembered most of time finding Steve barely holding his own against his opponent, _that noble little shit_, and Bucky didn't hesitate to follow him into the fray.

Bucky also took a second to remember all the times Steve followed him into something equally stupid.

…

Steve's face was purple from the up and downs on the rickety coaster. He looked completely sick from the halfway point on the Cyclone till the end. Bucky yelled in excitement. They got off and Bucky wanted to go again, but he looked over to see Steve pulling a Daniel Boone,. A little bit of throw-up on his shoes.

"So, you don't want to go again do you?" Bucky asked. Steve cleaned his mouth face with his shirt sleeve.

"You're such a jerk," he responded when he had pulled himself together.

"What about a hot dog?" Bucky spoke again. "Think you can eat." Steve shoved at his shoulder and Bucky pretended that Steve had made an impact by stumbling a little.

…

Steve had followed him on dozens of double dates. And then there was Steve's most recent venture, following Bucky to a Hydra base.

"Hell no," Bucky responded. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too," Bucky took a breath, "dumb to run away from a fight," Bucky turned his face to Steve's. "I'm following him." They stared at each other until Bucky pulled away for another drink to drink againafter it occurred to him that maybe he was the biggest idiot of them all.

When Bucky looked again, Steve seemed…_something_, nostalgic maybe, so Bucky tapped him on the shoulder.

"You're keeping the outfit right?" Bucky asked. Steve smiled his little shit smile at Bucky and responded,

"You know what?" He glanced to the 'canceled tour' poster behind them. "It's kinda growing on me."

It had grown on Bucky too. But being rescued by Steve while he'd been wearing those tights had left Bucky wanting Steve more than he ever had in the past. Despite their neighborhood, being welcoming, Bucky had never let himself believe that Steve was it for him. Sodomy was still illegal and the price was too high. It wasn't until Steve rescued him that he let himself actually want more. But still Steve could never be more to Bucky then his brave, dumb, _patriotic_ friend.

The entire room hushed to watch Agent Carter enter. She was stunning in her red dress, but she had nothing on Steve, especially _Steve in tights_, as previously mentioned. Bucky and Steve stood to greet her, and Bucky saw the look on Steve's face, adoration shining his eyes. They talked about equipment and Howard Stark, but the air around Steve and the Agent simmered. Bucky could sense it. and he He made a feeble attempt to flirt, trying to derail whatever was happening, but Steve and Carter's eyes never broke contact. That sorta figured. Bucky dragged Steve on all those double dates knowing that the girl would never be right for either of them but he had tried. And now, Steve found himself someone and Bucky would chase after Steve and never find a girl—_anyone—_ better than him.

Bucky knew his story wouldn't end happy. He knew it back in 1924 when he fought a kid two four years older for a guy he had only heard of, maybe seen in passing once or twice. He knew it in 1927 when Steve was barely tall enough to ride the Cyclone but did it anyway because Bucky wanted to go. He knew it in 1933 when they got sloppily drunk on the living room floor. He knew it months ago when he thought about how Steve would survive without him and sent his army earnings not to his folks but to Steve. He knew it when Steve stormed a Hydra facility to rescue him. He knew it now, when Steve's heart was set on a beautiful British woman, an agent no less.

Bucky could still get out. He had an honorable discharge waitinga for his response. He could go back to Brooklyn, be with his family. But then, everyone back home and probably everyone who witnessed the return of the 107th, _oh hell_, even Bucky knew that he would follow Steve till the end of the line.


End file.
